Interview
by cousin D
Summary: Clarice and Hannibal meet years before the movie.  She's a scarred  child and he's just bored with the usual cases that walk into his office.


These characters are not mine. Pity.  
  
  
  
Interview  
  
Written by cousin D  
  
  
  
'I don't want to be here. I want to go home.'   
  
Clarice pulls her knees up to her chest and hugs them. She can't go home and she knows it. Daddy isn't there to protect her anymore, and momma can't even take care of herself.  
  
Clarice looked around the doctor's office. It seemed to be filled to the brink. There was a big wooden desk with pictures on it and pretty, shining pens. Two large windows looking onto a large river and a forest beyond. The sun just was setting behind the trees. The sky was orange now and beginning to turn purple. Purple was her favorite color.  
  
There were hundreds of books lining the room in floor to ceiling bookcases; big, old, leather bound books. Also, between the bookcases, there was big paintings.   
  
Clarice steeled herself. She didn't want to be here and she wasn't going to cry.  
  
  
  
  
Dr. Hannibal Lecter-  
  
  
  
  
Dr. Hannibal Lecter walked down the hall where his office was carrying the manila folder under one arm. This was likely to be a tedious case. A mother was giving up ten-year-old for adoption after the father had died. The mother couldn't afford to feed her child.   
  
It was his duty to assess whether or not the child was mentally stable enough to go to a foster home again. Apparently, the last foster home she'd been placed in, she'd stolen some kind of farm animal and tried to run away with it.   
  
She refused to tell anyone why she'd done it. Now the man who'd fostered her didn't want a child who was going to steal his animals when he wasn't looking, so he'd given her up for a safer child. An infant he could raise as his own, perhaps.  
  
The child had likely been...no. The doctor stopped himself from prejudging the situation. He had no idea about what was going on or why the child had done this until he spoke to her.   
  
The girl was all ready in his office. Curled up in the leather armchair like a cat, she was staring out the window and Dr. Lecter didn't think she saw him come in. He took the opportunity to study her.  
  
The girl was dressed in worn denim overalls. Her brown hair was braided down her back with bangs that needed trimming falling into her eyes. He took a faint sniff and discovered that she had been scrubbed clean with Ivory soap.   
  
Her eyes were wide and thoughtful as she looked out at the sunset.   
  
"Good evening, Clarice." Dr. Lecter said softly.  
  
She turned to him, but didn't seem surprised. She looked him up and down, much the way he'd done to her, before she stood and held out her hand. "Good evening, Doctor Lecter." She replied in a charming Virginian accent, thick and undisguised.   
  
Dr. Lecter shook her hand, not showing how surprised he was at her good manners. It proved that appearances could be deceiving. He'd met pampered, spoiled brats, children of royalty, who had worse manners than this girl who looked like she'd never owned a set of clothes that hadn't been hand-me-downs.  
  
Dr. Lecter sat behind his desk and asked her to sit. They sat in silence while he looked over her file. There wasn't much information. Father murdered. Mother was giving her up for adoption. She'd runaway from the previous foster home.   
  
Dr. Lecter sighed. He knew all this. It had been in the local paper a few weeks ago. It would help if someone would give him information to work with.  
  
"Do you know why you're here, Clarice?" He asked her. It was just a question to get her talking, as he doubted she really knew the true reason. Few children did. Usually they were simply told to go talk to the nice man. That always gave him a bit of a smile. Nice man, indeed.   
  
She nodded with a very serious face. "You're going to decide if I can go to another home or if I have to go to a hospital for crazy people."  
  
That surprised him. She should not have known that unless someone had been talking infront of her when they weren't supposed to. "I take it you heard something."  
  
"Yeah. Everyone thinks I'm dumb, but I know what's going on."  
  
Dr. Lecter leaned forward, thinking that perhaps this girl would be more interesting than he thought. "Tell me why you stole the lamb, Clarice."  
  
"No."  
  
"May I ask why not?"  
  
She looked at him with wide innocent eyes. "It's not your business. I don't want to tell you."  
  
"But I will find out, my dear. I always find out what I want to know."  
  
Clarice's expression didn't change. "You won't find out unless I want you to know."  
  
  
Several sessions later-  
  
  
  
Clarice was distracted today. "I'm being sent away." She told him. "They said this is my last day with you."   
  
Dr. Lecter nodded slowly. True. He had been told about it early this morning and it saddened him. He was enjoyed the child's company.  
  
Clarice wandered the room and fiddled with things here and there. "I don't know where I'm going, no one will tell me. Do you know?" She looked up at him with hopeful fear. Hope that someone would tell her the truth and fear that he would tell her something she didn't want to hear.  
  
As always, Dr. Lecter sided with truth. "I have been told that you are being sent to live in a foundlings home in Arkansas. There are no foster homes willing to take you after the incident when you stole the lamb." That little incident fascinated him, but she still didn't want to talk about it.  
  
Clarice nodded, accepting the fact. "I was worried that they would send me to the crazy hospital. It's not real nice there, I've heard."  
  
"No, it's not very nice."  
  
There was silence in the room.  
  
A knock at the door and a voice shouted in, "Dr. Lecter? Clarice has to go now." It was her state worker, impatient to get moving as quickly as possible.  
  
"If you ever need me, Clarice. Come and find me." He told her in his soft voice.  
  
Clarice stood dutifully. She met his eyes. "I'll tell you some day. I promise. About the lamb, I mean."  
  
Hannibal nodded and let her walk out. They would meet again, he knew as he closed his eyes and thought of her serious little face. 'We will meet again, Clarice.'  
  
  
End 


End file.
